


Rowaelin One Word Prompts

by morganofthewildfire



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, One Word Prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 16:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 10,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30125748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganofthewildfire/pseuds/morganofthewildfire
Summary: This is a series of drabbles where I took one word someone sent to me on tumblr and turned it into a prompt! Everything is about 200 to 500 words, but some are more.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. Librarian

Aelin knew he was watching her, knew his pine green eyes were on her as she sauntered back into the row of bookshelves on the far side of the library. She made sure to purposefully sway her hips, drawing his attention to her assets as she walked away. 

As she ducked into the row, hiding herself from view, she smirked as she heard his chair scraping and the unmistakable sound of footsteps heading in her direction.  _ Serves him right.  _ He was the one who had started this little game, with the way he’d slid his hand discreetly up her thigh under the table, the way he’d caressed her name when he said it, as if savoring the feel of it on his tongue, the way he’d cocked an eyebrow in that way of his, making heat rush through her.

Now it was just payback.

Rowan appeared from around the corner, and Aelin was on him, pulling him into the secluded area and pressing him against the shelf. She was a decent height, tall for a woman, but he was even taller, so she was still looking up at him from under her lashes as she trailed a finger up his arm.

He placed his hands on her waist, tugging her into his warmth as he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, but out of spite, she ducked away, chuckling slightly. Rowan smiled and pinched her side, the moment turning sillier, and she looked back up at him, a grin on her lips now.

“Don’t be like that,” he teased, “let me kiss you.” Aelin rolled her eyes jokingly and relented.

“If you must.” She sighed in fake exasperation, but melted into him when his lips finally met hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him tight to her as he squeezed her closer to him, slanting his mouth over hers as the kiss got heated.

_ So  _ heated that fifteen minutes later, they left the library with wild hair and wild eyes, glancing at the blushing librarian, who had gone back there to shelve some books and came across something quite different. Aelin didn’t think they’d be allowed back.


	2. Crib

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: miscarriage

She should’ve had the damn thing thrown away. That was her first thought when she finally entered the room that had been locked for over a year now. She should’ve had it thrown away so she wouldn’t be hit with the pain that was flaring in her chest looking at it. It was a blaring reminder of everything she’d lost, everything she’d taken from Rowan, who had no idea that when he’d married her, he’d be subjected to this.

Because it was her fault, wasn’t it?

It was her fault this crib wasn’t filled. It was her fault the occupant of it never made it long enough to see it’s little bed. It was her fault that Rowan had had to support her every single day, from driving her to the hospital that cursed night, to getting her out of bed every morning and feeding her some breakfast and some coffee, trying to put some light into her blank eyes. It was her fault that she had become his life, instead of every other dream he’d whispered to her in the first glows of their love.

The rest of the room had been stripped down, the decorations removed and stored away, either by Rowan or by one of their family. Aedion and Lysandra had certainly been their support system while they were going through the worst of it. It wouldn’t surprise Aelin if it had been them. 

But the crib remained, like a mocking reminder in the middle of the floor, the mobile of kingsflame still spinning from some sort of breeze. An echo of a baby’s laugh filled her ears, and she closed her eyes, a tear slipping out at the false memory. Because there had never been a baby in this room.


	3. Farm

Aelin laughed as her daughter ran around the pen, tripping and falling but getting right back up to go pet all of the different animals. They’d spent the day at the zoo, closing out the trip with a visit to the petting zoo, where Eliott had discovered her love for every single goat, sheep, cow, rabbit, and anything else there.

Aelin was just having a great time watching her, keeping a close eye on everything of course.

“How did we get so lucky?” She murmured to her husband, leaning into Rowan’s side as he put his arm around her shoulders.

“I don’t know but I love it,” he said, joy clear in his voice. “Just look at her, she’s having such a great time.” His green eyes crinkled with happiness as Eliott laughed with wonder as a goat snorted, the noise sparking her interest.

“She really is,” Aelin agreed, taking a second to breathe in the moment. Even if it smelled like animals and manure and whatever other scents were wafting in, the environment had such an air of love around it. She’d grown up visiting her great uncle’s farm, and she’d loved it every time she’d go, and it was great to see her daughter having a similar experience. Even though it wasn’t quite the same. But it could be. “Let’s buy a farm,” she said quietly, the idea forming in her head.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her head, considering the statement before nodding and laughing slightly.

“Okay, why the hell not,” he chuckled, “let’s do it.”


	4. Sunflowers

They were too yellow, too bright. The loveliness of them mocked Aelin as she stared them down and wondered how there could be something so beautiful when the world simply existed to destroy.

Yet there they were, springing up between cracks and growing in patches and bringing life with them.  _ Life _ . As if that existed for her anymore.

How could it? When everyone she ever loved was dead.

It didn’t make sense, the little patch of flowers growing there, it didn’t connect in her grief stricken brain. Yet Aelin found herself gravitating toward them, stopping her journey to kneel down and pick one out of the ground, holding it in her calloused hands.

Because Rowan would like it. Rowan would like this little piece of beauty. He’d say it radiated sunlight, just like her, joy in its purest form. He’d buy her a whole bouquet, leaving it on their kitchen table with a love poem he’d written, claiming her as his ultimate inspiration.

She clenched her hands around the stem. But he couldn’t anymore. Not when the careless winds of ruin had taken him too.

So Aelin stood, clutching the flower and whispered to herself.

_ To whatever end. _


	5. Motel

The motel was dank and dirty, far out of the way of anything respectable. Celeana didn’t usually like this part of town, but coming here was necessary when her business was to remain out of the public eye. No one asked questions here, no one cared enough, and if they did care, they knew that one word from them would lead to them never saying anything ever again.

So it was purely for convenience really.

She sniffed in distaste, throwing on her hood to avoid being recognized in the glare of the neon sign.

A few drunk patrons noticed her as she waltzed into the tiny bar in the lobby, the smell of cheap alcohol permeating her senses, but she ignored them, her eyes landing on one man in the back, a hood of his own covering his head and a black coat covering his body.

Purely anonymous.

An annoyance, but one she was used to. No one liked to have any sort of involvement in this world, no ability to trace them and pinpoint them, which could lead to a call to the cops and a lifelong sentence locked up in Endovier.

Which was why Celaena stayed anonymous herself. That wasn’t her real name, and no one knew what she looked like. There were only two people in the whole godforsaken world that knew who she really was. One held it over her head like blackmail, while the other one was lost to a memory, a forgotten dream, a missing hole in her heart. He was alive, but he was gone.

She slid onto the bar seat next to the man with grace, flicking a coin to the bartender as she waited for her next job. The man pulled back his hood enough to be heard, whispering the words as the bartender turned away.

“Thirty thousand to kill Rowan Whitethorn.”

Rowan Whitethorn.  _ Shit. _


	6. Braid

Aelin sighed and tied back her hair, braiding it as quickly as she could with her lack of energy, giving up halfway through and slumping to the bed, resting into the pillows and letting a single tear of frustration slip down her face.

She was so tired she couldn’t even braid her hair, how was she supposed to do this for three more months? She slid her hands down and cradled her pregnant stomach, a soft smile crawling onto her face when she felt her baby kick.

“Are you almost ready to go, Fireheart?” Her husband, the love of her life called out as he walked into the room, his green eyes sparking with confusion as he found her on the bed, decidedly not ready. They were supposed to be going over to Aedion and Lysandra’s house for lunch, but Aelin wasn’t sure she’d be able to. Another tear slipped out. “What’s wrong?” Rowan asked quietly, coming over to kneel by her. 

He lifted his hand and gently wiped the tear away from her cheek, resting his hand on her skin.

“I’m so tired, Rowan,” she complained, “I can’t move without hurting, I have to pee all the time and I’m so uncomfortable, and I can’t even braid my hair without having to take a break.” She sounded slightly whiny but she didn’t care. Rowan smiled softly and helped her sit up, turning her slightly so he could sit behind her.

“Here,” he murmured, “let me help.”

Aelin sniffled and wiped her own face, sitting there as he combed through her hair softly, splitting it into three sections. He braided it quickly, tying it with a hair tie from her wrist, and then leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder and sitting his hands on her bump.

“I love both of you, you know that?” Rowan said quietly, and Aelin murmured an I love you back before smiling and turning around to press a kiss to his lips.

“Okay, I’m ready.”


	7. Bullet

“See Aelin? This is what happens when you disobey me.” Arobynn’s steely voice barely permeated her ears, all of her senses focused on the body on the floor, on the blood pooling around it, on the green eyes that were so much dimmer than they had been a minute ago, before the devil himself had walked into the room.

The barrel from his pistol was still steaming as he lowered it, grabbing his handkerchief with his other hand and wiping it off, as if wiping off the death he had just incurred. The death that Aelin knew would haunt her forever. 

“I told you to stay away from him, and look where we are now.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head at her and staring with a malicious gaze. 

She opened her mouth to respond, but found that no words came out of her mouth. She didn’t know what to say anyway. Her heart was being torn apart and every word she ever had was bleeding out with it. Because that was Rowan,  _ Rowan,  _ who Arobynn had just murdered in cold blood. The bullet from his gun had been just as much an act of vengeance as it was a sign to her that any hope she may have, any love she may search for, would be futile. 

Because she was his property. 

And he didn’t share his belongings.


	8. Roses

Aelin felt tears prick at her eyes as she trudged home, absolutely defeated from the day. Her heels were killing her, her hair was falling out of its meticulous style, and she just wanted to lay down and go to sleep.

She’d had to stay late at work, her boss forcing her to work overtime for post meeting catch up and preparation for the next day, when they go through everything from the meeting and plan their next steps. The meeting had been with a company that they were organizing a merger with, a very stressful merger that took up a lot of time.

And it didn’t help that the CEO of that company, a Mr. Hamel, refused to take anything she said seriously and preferred to stare at her chest the whole time she was talking.

Aelin had felt utterly humiliated and degraded, especially when he’d tried to corner her afterward, asking inappropriate questions about her relationship status. She’d fortunately been able to say she was taken, but she shouldn’t have been put in that position in the first place.

She walked slowly into the elevator, pressing the button for her floor and leaning her head against the wall.

Rowan had likely already gone to sleep, as it was way past his usual early bedtime, so she wouldn’t even get to talk to him. He’d known about her meeting, and when it looked like she was going to have to stay even later than she’d expected, she’d texted him and let him know to just go to bed without her.

She was regretting that decision now.

When the elevator stopped, she exited and made her way painfully down to her apartment, unlocking her door with shaky hands.

A tear slipped down her face and she sniffed it away as she entered the room. But she let the next one fall as she laid eyes on the small bouquet of flowers sitting on the dining table. It had roses mixed in with kings flame, the vibrant reds and oranges looking like a beautiful fire, reigniting a bit of a spark inside her.

Aelin walked toward it, picking up the little card sitting next to it.

_ I love you, Fireheart _

She sniffed again as she set it down and made her way to their bedroom, love filling up her chest. Simple gestures like this really made her remember why she’d fallen in love with him so quickly and so deeply, their connection stronger than any she’d ever had. Just this little gift had melted most of the stress from her day away, replaced by a sense of peace.

And sure enough, Rowan was asleep when she got into the room, tucked under the comforters on his stomach, with his arm splayed out over the empty side of the bed, like he was reaching for her in his sleep.

She got ready for bed quickly and then slipped as quietly as possible under his arm, settling down into his embrace, smelling his comforting scent and whispering “I love you too.”


	9. Golden

Aelin Galathynius was golden. Every aspect of her shined like a brilliant sun, like a star that radiated light and brightened up the darkness.

From the way she looked, with her shining blonde hair, the almost metallic strands looking like a precious jewel, and the eyes everyone praised, with the golden ring that added a spark of light to the deep and mesmerizing turquoise, drawing you in like a pit of quicksand.

To the way she acted, her sunny demeanor so similar to that stunning shade, every word she spoke like an echo of that rarity, everyone clambering for more.

Everyone wanted her, wanted to hear what she said, wanted to see her and be near her and be the one  _ she  _ wanted. She was as desired as the precious metal itself, her body and her mind combining to create the most beautiful thing anyone had ever seen.

But Rowan was the one who got to hold her. He was the one who got to be with her, and love her, and protect her, keeping that golden light safe and carefree. He was the one who saw her shine, got to  _ make  _ her shine every time they were together in the sheets, the noises she makes like those of a siren.

She was golden in the way she loved, in the way she smiled, in the way she laughed and lived and just was.

Aelin Galathynius was golden, and Rowan was the silver at her side.


	10. Bicycle

It had been the perfect day for a bike ride. Sunny, clear, but with a breeze in the air that gave it a hint of chill and kept you from getting too hot. So Aelin had decided to go to the park, to have some tree coverage and some fresh air.

It had all been going well, she was getting exercise and enjoying the nice weather, until another bike slammed directly into hers, obviously not paying attention.

“Shit!” Aelin called as she fell, her bike skidding away from her as she braced herself on the dirt. She winced at a particularly nasty gash in her hand, probably from a rock or something similar.

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry,” a frantic deep voice called out, as they likely hopped off of their own bike. She lifted her head, prepared to shoot a death glare toward the person, when she faltered. Because there was the hottest man she’d ever seen.

His hair was silvery in the sun, and his eyes were a deep green, concern clear in them. “Are you okay?” He asked, crouching down next to her. Aelin froze, and then hid her hand and nodded.

“Yep, I’m all good.” She smiled, hoping it was convincing. For some reason, she didn’t think showing him her bloodied hand would be a great first impression, even if it was his fault. But from the look on his face, he didn’t believe her, so she sighed and slowly moved her hand around into view.

“Shit,” he said, “that looks pretty bad. One second.” He darted away back to his bike and pulled out a first aid kit seemingly from nowhere. The man crouched back near her and pulled out some antiseptic, wetting a bandage with it and getting ready to dab it onto her hand. “This may hurt.”

Aelin nodded and then he started cleaning it, her wincing at the sting.

“What’s your name?” She asked as he took out a fresh bandage and started wrapping the wound.

“I’m Rowan,” the man said as he finished and began cleaning up his supplies. She smiled up at him.

“Well, Rowan,” she said, “it might be a good idea for me to give you my number you know, so you can check back up on how my hand is doing in a few days right?” Rowan paused and then looked at her, a smile of his own forming.

“I think that’s a great idea, purely for medical purposes that’s all,” he replied in a tone that implied it would be for anything but.

“Let’s just not go biking on our first date,” she said and he laughed, the sound warming something in her chest.

“Yeah, let’s not.”


	11. Jealousy

Aelin was about ready to make a scene, to yell and scream at the bitch standing next to her boyfriend. Well,  _ ex  _ boyfriend she supposed.

Their relationship had fallen apart quite dramatically, with a shouting match, tears, and even a slap.

But it didn’t mean she was completely ready to move on. Her and Chaol had been together for almost three years, and even though he’d constantly disrespected her, belittled her, and pretended like her needs mattered less than his, it was hard for her to let go of someone who had meant so much to her for so long.

Hence where Rowan Whitethorn came in.

Rowan and her had been  _ acquaintances _ to say the most, from the time he’d befriended her cousin Aedion in high school, all the way up to now, two years fresh out of college.

They hadn’t necessarily gotten along too well, easily getting into cat fights and name calling and storming off muttering evil things about the other. But there was no denying that Rowan was extremely hot. Quite a bit hotter than Chaol.

Which was perfect.

And he’d already agreed to her plan, more quickly than she had expected, but maybe he had a reason of his own.

All they had to do was pretend to be dating, just in public, just around their friends. Because Dorian was in their friend group and he was still very close with Chaol, which meant that nobody could know of their deception.

Just for long enough to make Chaol jealous, she’d play the part.

“Hey baby,” Rowan said, plopping a strong arm over her shoulders and leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. From across the room, at the bar instead of their group’s table, Chaol’s eyes widened as they fell upon the pair.

“Hey,” Aelin said back, forcing a smile at the man and leaning in to place a  _ real  _ kiss on his lips. They melted into each other for a moment, their mouths moving slowly and passionately, before pulling back, giving their audience a show.

After all, they may hate each other, but they looked fucking good, so why not flaunt it?


	12. Woods

When she was young, Aelin Galathynius used to have a tree house. At her family’s old estate, there had been a sprawling forest behind the house, and she was pretty sure she had explored a good chunk of it, as much as her parents would let her of course, although she went further than they had known or paid attention to.

But closer to the edge, just beyond the treeline, her parents had a treehouse built for her to play in, mainly as a way to appease her due to their busy schedules and generally neglectful attitude, but Aelin had taken the gift and ran with it. The tree house became her safe haven, her spot, her treasure chest full of toys and the castle she defended with every swish of her wooden sword. It was her home really. But she was too lonely to live alone, so Rowan Whitethorn came too.

He had been her neighbor in her youth, living in the more modest house next door. They’d become friends pretty quickly, and he joined her in the adventures she’d create in her own mind, the knight to her queen, the prince ready to rescue her princess, her worst enemy when they’d fight, her best friend when they were happy. He was a willing participant in all of her antics, and slowly he became her home instead of the treehouse.

But then her parents had moved, dragging her with them, and she never saw her home again. 

Aelin didn’t know what Rowan did with his life, now almost two decades later, but she hoped he was happy. And she hoped that treehouse was still there waiting for them, waiting for the day she came back, the day she returned, the day she turned away from her new life and waltzed gleefully back to her old.

She wished she could, but it was never easy. There was always an excuse, a reason not to visit her old house, even if it still technically belonged to her parents.

But when they’d died, she’d run dry of arguments, run dry of ways to say no. So she had made that journey back home, visions of dragons and princes and sword fights and  _ real  _ fights on her mind, joy flaring in her heart.

But even though the house was still standing, her home was gone.


	13. Closet

It was the dress, Rowan told himself. It was the dress that made him pull her into the nearest closet and kiss her senseless.

Yep, it was her dress, not the guy that he had seen flirting with her, or the twisting that occurred in his stomach at the sight. No, it was pure lust that drove him, not anything else.

He and Aelin had had an  _ arrangement _ for a while now. He hated her, she hated him, but they both found the other incredibly attractive, so it led to hate sex. And a lot of it.

Their mutual friend group meant going out with each other quite often, which meant hook ups in club bathrooms, or in his car outside of a bar while everyone else thought they had gone home, or sneaking off during game night to go fuck without interruption. 

It was easy, it was fun, it was convenient. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more.

But now, at Aedion’s house party, he couldn’t deny the way the brunette stranger flirting with her made him feel. Instead of hating her, he hated  _ that.  _ Hated the way the man had his hand on her waist, the way he smiled down at her, the way he looked satisfied that he had seemingly staked his claim on her for the night.

Well fuck that.

Rowan grabbed her hand, muttering a “can I talk to you for a second?” And then led her away, her willingly following.

“What’s wrong, Ro?” Aelin asked, tilting her head. But he didn’t answer, pushing her into the nearby coat closest and pressing her against the wall, pressing a heavy kiss to her lips.

She followed suit immediately, grasping his hair and opening for him, his tongue darting in to devour her.

But then he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, muttering the words he’d never dared to say out loud. “I love you.”

Aelin just smiled, warming his heart, and said, “I love you too.”


	14. Letter

Crown Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was about to die. She was going to fall on the floor and waste away until her lady’s maid found her sprawled out on the carpet. But she wasn’t going to be murdered or killed from heartbreak, no. She was going to die out of pure joy.

She clutched the piece of parchment to her chest, spinning around giddily as she beamed. Aelin didn’t think she’d ever get rid of the letter she held in her hands, the love and hope poured into every little word on the page.

Because Rowan Whitethorn had written her back.  _ Prince  _ Rowan Whitethorn, who she had met on her family’s last diplomatic trip to Doranelle. Who she had found out was her mate.

From the moment they laid eyes on each other, her turquoise ones meeting his green, it just felt  _ right. _ Like nothing she’d ever felt before.

Aelin pulled back the paper, looking at the words written across it again, specifically the way he signed his name, with an  _ I love you  _ in front.

Sure this was his first letter, and yes they’d only known each other for a few weeks, but that time in Doranelle together had been special, and she was fully ready to be in love, she  _ was  _ in love.

Her parents were making arrangements with Queen Sellene for a betrothal, her mother eager when she heard the news and her father happy for her but with a bit of good natured concern.

But regardless, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius would soon be Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius, and she couldn’t wait.


	15. Coffee

Aelin leaned back in her desk chair, sighing in exasperation as she stared at the bland white ceiling of the dingy office building.

Sometimes she didn’t know why she stayed here, why she did this boring job day after day when she was far past the required time that was a part of her original internship here, and when this was nowhere close to what she wanted to do with her life. But it was easy, and secure, and simple, even if it was dreadfully dull.

A yawn escaped her as rubbed at her eyes, trying to wake herself up. She’d woken up late that morning and hadn’t gotten a chance to make or stop for coffee anywhere, and she was exhausted from staying up late the night before to finish a book she’d been hooked on.

She should’ve just stayed home, she’d be able to make up her work in less than an hour tomorrow, no harm would really have been done. But it was too late.

“Galathynius,” a voice called, and she sat up and turned to stare into the striking green eyes of her coworker Rowan Whitethorn, his gorgeous tan skin complemented by his white shirt that was stretched just right over his thick muscles as he handed her...a coffee cup. She blinked and tore her gaze away from his body. Oh right, that’s why she stayed here. Her gigantic crush on him.

“What’s this?” Aelin asked hesitatingly as she took the cup from him. He scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed before answering.

“It’s coffee,” he said, and she lifted an eyebrow at the obvious reply.

“Yes, but why?” She took a small sip, the sugary flavors tasting just right on her tongue. An indecent sound escaped her, and his cheeks flushed.

“You looked like you could use some, so I went and bought you one. I was already getting myself some it wasn’t any trouble.” His voice was nervous, and he frowned as her smile grew bigger. “Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, but she just kept on smiling. Rowan shook his head and turned away, his cheeks reddening even more as he left.

“Thank you, Rowan!” She called after him, and he waved back at her in dismissal as he practically ran away.

Maybe working here wasn’t so bad after all.


	16. Dessert

Rowan laughed as Aelin’s face lit up into a hilariously exaggerated expression as their dessert arrived, the decadent cake in her favorite flavor, chocolate hazelnut.

He’d ordered that ahead of time, banking in it being a surprise for her, as well as a surprise for what was inside.

It had taken a trip to the “bathroom” to sort it out. He’d actually called ahead and explained the situation, saying he’d pay extra, but they’d waved the fee and said all he needed to do was bring the surprise to the kitchen at some point when he arrived, as they were happy to help out the loving couple. Rowan would still be sure to tip them heavily when he got the check.

Because he was sure it wasn’t everyday they baked a ring into a cake.

Rowan waited eagerly as Aelin devoured the dessert, not taking a single bite himself as he watched. But he became increasingly concerned that she had managed to swallow it, as the cake disappeared and she was still shoveling it down like nobody’s business. He should’ve accounted for her extreme love of cake.

“Aelin, love, you might want to slow down,” he tried to say, but he earned the most withering stare from his girlfriend so he gave up, hoping it was still there and that she’d realize before she ate it.

Rowan tapped his foot and bit the inside of his cheek, about to say something else when there was the unmistakable clink of her fork on something metallic. They both paused, her in confusion and him in anticipation as she pulled out the fork from the cake, the ring hooked onto one of the tines.

He smiled softly as her face melted into one of surprise and then utter happiness, tears forming as she looked up at him, nodding her head eagerly.

He opened his mouth to officially ask her, but she just slipped the ring onto her finger, not waiting for him before she was saying an ecstatic “yes”. 


	17. Ocean

Rowan Whitethorn sometimes thought that love was like an ocean. It was depthless and boundless to those who were willing to jump right in, but for those who were more cautious, it held endless amounts of fear.

He’d like to think he was wise for being wary, for not throwing himself head first into something he didn’t understand, but he also knew that the ocean had currents, and that if you weren’t paying attention, you could get in too deep before you even realized you were no longer on the shore.

And maybe that’s what happened.

Maybe that’s how he fell so far in love with Aelin Galathynius, whose very eyes looked like an ocean, drawing him in with every glance and every sparkle.

He hadn’t noticed it at first, hadn’t noticed the effect she had on him. But the longer they were friends, the more she saved smiles just for him, the more she leaned on him for support, the more she texted him and called him and came over to his house, the more he found himself looking for her when he thought of something funny, or saw something he thought she would like, the more that every moment without her felt like he was missing something, like he had lost half of soul and only she contained the other piece, the more he realized what that meant.

He loved her. Undoubtedly. The ocean had claimed him too.

But this time, he was ready.


	18. Miracle

Every beep of the heart monitor crushed Rowan’s own heart a little bit more. Every hushed whisper of the nurses, every sympathetic look from the doctors made something in his chest break. Every resigned and sad look in Aelin’s eyes, every rogue tear that slipped down her cheek, every relapse she had that ended with her sobbing in his arms as she recognized what was going on made it all a bit worse.

Aelin was dying. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

_ It’s a rare condition _ , the doctor had said, the first day they’d gone to the hospital because her pain was so bad she couldn’t move from her spot on the floor.  _ I’ll have to do some more research. _

That’s what every doctor from there on out had said.  _ I’ll do some more research.  _ Because no one really knew what was wrong, besides the fact that something was. And that something was slowly killing her.

“You have to let me go, Ro,” Aelin whispered from her spot on the hospital bed, endless tubes and machinery hooked up to her frail form. She was  _ so  _ frail. Her body was giving out, her organs failing from whatever mysterious ailment was making them lose their strength.

And that made it so much worse, that they didn’t know what it was. Because that meant there was nothing Rowan could do to stop it. There was no enemy for him to fight, no war for him to ship himself off to to save his love.

No, he just had to watch as she slowly slipped away, hoping for a miracle.


	19. Afterglow

It was their third fight of the week, and it was only Tuesday. It was their third fight, and just like the first two, it was her fault. Rowan had made a simple mistake, forgetting to wash the dishes like he had promised, and she had yelled at him, temper already high like it always was lately.

She was aware that the tension in their relationship was because of her, was because of her own shortcomings and failures. She’d been a mess for a long time now, and Rowan knew that, which is why every time she begged him to stay, to forgive her, he did.

But this time, it seemed to push him over the edge, her constant nagging and blowing things out of proportion had driven him to leave. Now Aelin was staring at the backside of their closed front door, the one he’d walked out of moments ago. He’d gone to Lorcan’s house to “cool off” as he put it, but she knew he wouldn’t be back until at least the morning.

The tears had started the minute he was gone.

Now she was sobbing, crouched on the floor and leaning against the wood as she wondered what she would do. How would she do anything without him there?

But Aelin still held out hope that he’d reappear at the door, a forgiving smile on his face, giving her a chance to apologize. Because she so desperately wanted to. She’d beg him to hear her out if she got the chance.

Maybe not now, but when he was back. Because he would be.

She stood up and glanced out the window, watching the afterglow of the sunset as the day faded into night.

He’d be back, she told herself, he’d be back.


	20. Dream

It wasn’t often that Celaena Sardothien dreamed. In her eighteen years of life, she barely remembered any besides the ones of her youth. From a childhood stolen away. She’d always been too focused on surviving day to day to ever let her mind wander at night.

But now, on the rough stone of her cell in Endovier, no light ever entering through the invisible cracks, she dreamed.

Tossing and turning on the cold floor, she felt a million times older than she was, her body groaning and aching from the discomfort and from the fresh wounds still marring her back. They’d whipped her earlier that day, tying her to that damned post with that damned overseer sneering and leering at her as they rid her of her top. The man was a monster, and the first day here, Celaena figured he would haunt her nightmares, but he never made an appearance. A blessing from the gods really, even though she rarely ever thanked them for the mess her life was, but she saw the man enough during the day, she didn’t need to see his eyes at night. 

But tonight, when she closed her eyes, going from the darkness of her cell to the darkness of her mind, she saw green.

Green eyes.

They were looking at her with such sorrow and desperation. She scanned over his other features, observing and calculating as always, and saw tan skin and silvery hair, a sprawling black tattoo, but most of him was covered by the dark mist of her consciousness. And all she wanted to focus on was his eyes. 

There was something vaguely familiar about them, something that pulled on her chest and said  _ here, here, here I am!  _ But she ignored the impulse to call out, staring at him as he looked around, like he was looking  _ for  _ something.

Celaena wasn’t sure he could see her, she wasn’t sure if she was even present in this dreamscape or if she was simply a transparent observer, looking through the lens of an outsider, a momentary escape from the horrors of her waking hours. Because these green eyes were bringing peace.

But she found he  _ could  _ see her when his gaze landed on her after a few moments and widened, a surprised look that settled into relief.

“Aelin,” he breathed, and she furrowed her brows at the name that she hadn’t heard in years, a name that no one was supposed to know and a name she certainly didn’t claim anymore. Celaena backed away, suddenly uncomfortable with the situation. No matter how much she was being pulled toward this mysterious person, she was wary. That name was a threat, and a threat meant danger. 

He frowned at her retreat, confusion clear in his eyes, but before he could say anything, the world they found themselves in started fading. The mist grew, a wind picking up and throwing the darkness around. It whipped around them, and the man started fading away and he pricked up with alarm.

“Aelin, I’m coming for you, just hold out a little longer, okay? I love you.” 

And then he was gone. 

Celaena snapped awake with a gasp, sitting up and breathing heavily, all color and light removed as she was thrust back into reality.

Her hands shook against the stone, and she took deep breaths to calm herself back down, her mind whirling around and hooking on two phrases.

_ I’m coming for you,  _ and,  _ I love you. _

But she shook it off, chuckling humorlessly into the silence at the ridiculousness of it. She didn’t know that man, didn’t know why he called her by that name, or looked at her with love in his eyes. No one loved her, not anymore, and there was certainly no one coming to save her.

It was just a dream.


	21. Blush

Aelin usually never came to the school football games, had never been one for the crowds, for the shouting, for the sport itself.

But she was very interested in Rowan Whitethorn, the newest recruit, the prodigy sophomore who had earned a spot on varsity. 

So much so that she’d let Lysandra convince her to go to one, and even claim a spot in the front row of the bleachers, suffering through being squished against other sweaty, loud teenagers all for the sake of being closer to him.

Aelin wasn’t sure Rowan knew she existed. They’d never really spoken, and their friends never interacted either. They were in separate worlds, the athletes and the loners, but she couldn’t help but pine for him from across the school, just as she was pining for him from across the field now.

Despite not knowing much about football, she knew it was good when Rowan caught the ball and ran toward the end of the field, evading being hit by someone from the other team. The whole crowd was screaming and yelling for him to Go! Go! Go! And he did, all the way to the end, apparently scoring a touchdown for their team.

Just because it was him, Aelin screamed with everyone else, yelling and clapping her hands as everyone around her whooped with joy. 

Rowan jogged back to the sideline, following the coach’s timeout, and as he glanced up, he made eye contact with her, and winked.  _ Winked. _

She blushed madly and smiled a bit, feeling warm all over as he grinned back.

Maybe football wasn’t so bad.


	22. Game

There were things that Aelin Galathynius was good at, like putting together kickass outfits, coming up with better comebacks than her cousin, running her parents Fortune 500 company. She was especially good at Monopoly, so much so that a lot of her friends refused to play with her because she bankrupted them within the first twenty minutes.

But one thing she was absolutely awful at was pool. 

No matter how much she tried or practiced or was determined to succeed, she couldn’t get the stupid stick to hit the stupid white ball to knock any other stupid ball into a hole. It was kind of embarrassing how many times she’s tried to play and missed the ball completely, but that’s neither here nor there. 

But unfortunately, her boyfriend was unfairly good at that game. Usually when Rowan played, Aelin didn’t even get a chance to go because he would make every shot until he got to the eight ball. And for someone as competitive as her, it grated on her nerves. 

Like now.

“Don’t take it so personally Fireheart,” Rowan said with a knowing smile as he sank the eight ball into the back corner. “I had a pool table at my house growing up.”

Aelin couldn’t help the tears of frustration that pricked her eyes at the sight of all seven of her striped balls still on the table. They were downstairs in their apartment building’s game room, but it was practically the middle of the night so no one else was in there, which was good because there was no one to see her absolute failure.

“Aelin…” Rowan said when he saw her tears. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she insisted, wiping at her eyes and ignoring his concern. But her boyfriend knew her well, so he sighed fondly and set the pool stick down and made his way over to her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest and resting his chin on her head.

“I’m not upset I’m just frustrated,” she practically whined, nuzzling into his shirt. “I suck at this godsdamned game.”

Rowan laughed, the sound rumbling through her, and then tilted her chin up and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Here, let me help you.”

She made a noncommittal noise, but didn’t fight as he turned her around and grabbed a pool stick, handing it to her and then wrapping his arms around from behind her, grabbing the pool stick too. Aelin was practically cocooned in him and had to resist the urge to burrow into him instead of focusing on the game. Her boyfriend helped her aim at one of her balls, grazing her skin as he pulled the stick back.

“Ready?” He whispered into her ear, and she shivered slightly, which he clearly felt and smirked at. Aelin leant back into him, breath catching as together they hit the white ball, and she watched with delight as it hit one of hers and knocked into a hole.

“Oh my gods!” She embarrassingly squealed, flipping back around and flinging herself at Rowan, jumping into him and hugging him around the waist. He laughed as he caught her and spun her around. When he set her down she leaned up and threw herself into a kiss, starting off as a sweet thank you and turning into something much more as he grabbed her waist and slanted his mouth over hers.

Aelin quickly twisted her arms around his shoulders, melting into him as his tongue darted into her mouth. A moan slipped out of her, and Rowan quickly lifted her up and set her down on the edge of the pool table. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close to her as their mouths moved together. Desire pooled inside of her as he pressed against her, and soon she was laying down and pulling him with her, carefully avoiding any of the balls left on the table. 

His hands dragged down her body, his mouth falling to press kisses to her neck, and as she took a breath of air, she realized where they were.

“Rowan,” she breathed, and he looked up at her.

“What?” He asked, his green eyes full of desire.

“We’re kind of in public right now,” she giggled at his look of disappointment. But then he smirked and left for a second, heading to the door and locking it.

He returned to her quickly, and pushed her back down. She laughed at his enthusiasm but quickly melted back into him. Maybe she didn’t hate pool after all.


	23. Together

When the first contraction hit, Aelin didn’t know what to do. When the pain got so bad she had to clench her teeth and pant a little to get through it, she didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t know how she would make it through the inevitable: she was going into labor and she had no idea how she would make it to the other side.

Her mother had had a difficult pregnancy with her, so difficult that she hadn’t been able to conceive again after that. Aelin knew that problems like that were usually hereditary, so she wasn’t very optimistic about her own journey.

Another flash of pain hit and she sobbed a little bit, bracing herself against the wall as it passed.

“Aelin?” Rowan called out, his tone a bit frantic as he came into the room and saw her. “What’s wrong?”

She looked at him and his concerned green eyes, muttering tearfully “the baby’s coming.” His eyes widened and he let out an “oh” before springing into action.

“How far apart are your contractions? Do we have everything in the bag we need? Have you told Aedion or Lysandra yet?” He rambled on, going through the whole list. But it just made her even more overwhelmed and she sniffled, trying to keep the tears from falling as another contraction hit.

Rowan’s face fell as he saw her struggle and he went to her immediately, wiping the tears off her cheek as she sobbed into his hand.

“I’m so scared, Rowan,” she admitted quietly, letting out the fear that she’d kept to herself for months. “I’m scared something’s going to go wrong, that our baby won’t be okay.” 

Her husband pressed a soft kiss to her lips, one hand going down to rest on her stomach, near the baby that would soon be out in the world.

“We’ll do it together, Fireheart. I’ll always be there for you.”


	24. Starlight

The roof of Aelin’s apartment complex was a great place to watch the stars.

Technically, she wasn’t supposed to go up there, there was even a sign on the door that said to stay away. But said door was always unlocked, and if it wasn’t for some reason, Aelin had picked up a fascinating lock picking ability from her tumultuous youth that would solve that problem quite quickly.

Because she liked looking at the stars,  _ needed  _ to look at them if only to give herself a bit of air, to look out at the sky and think about how much more light there was than darkness.

Recently, she’d been sneaking Rowan up here too. They weren’t dating, even if she was beginning to wish they were, but they were still very close friends, and he was the only one that she had ever wanted to share the stars with.

Tonight was one of those nights, with her arms holding her knees to her chest like a child, with his arms around her, holding her close to him. Her eyes were looking up in wonder, while his eyes were looking at her.

“Aren’t they beautiful, Rowan?” She said quietly, breathing in the moment. She sensed, more than saw, him smile fondly at her.

“You know what’s even prettier than starlight, Aelin Galathynius?” He asked after a pause, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“What?” She whispered practically into his ear, heart warming at their peacefulness.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her hair. “You.”


	25. Keys

The keys in her hand jingled as Aelin crossed the threshold of the door, shutting it and locking it behind her with a sigh. And so ends the last time she’d ever be in that apartment.

It was a bittersweet moment, bitter due to all of the memories and life lived in that home, sweet because of where she was moving to next.

“Are you ready?” Rowan, her boyfriend, the love of her life, said quietly, and she nodded, pressing her head to his shoulder as she fought off a tear. It was silly that she was having to keep herself from crying, but she knew he didn’t mind, understood even. He always understood her, which was part of the reason she’d been so drawn to him. She never had to explain herself to him.

“Yeah,” she muttered, lifting her head up to press a kiss to his cheek. Because she was ready, ready to go start the next phase of her life.

Rowan’s apartment would become her new home, just as  _ he _ was her home, and they’d make plenty of new memories there. They had a lot of life left to live, and this wouldn’t be the end of anything. So she nodded again, wiping her face, and said

“Let’s go.”


	26. Tradition

_ It’s tradition, Aelin. _

The words repeated themselves over and over in her ears as she ran away from the throne room, tears streaming down her face.

Her dress was bunched in her hands, her heels abandoned long ago in her escape. She wouldn’t go back. She  _ wouldn’t. _

Not when they were trying to force her to get married, even though she’d just turned eighteen, had just turned of age. But she was a princess, and the king was dying, and it was tradition that she become a wife before she became a queen.

Utter bullshit.

Aelin didn’t need a husband to take over the crown, especially one they’d pick out for her. Her parents’ choice would likely be someone practical, with money, status, manners, and nothing about him that would raise a fuss or cause an uproar.

In other words, the exact opposite of what she wanted.

Green eyes flashed in her mind, green eyes that had enthralled her, had challenged her, had loved her.

Maybe he was gone, maybe she didn’t know where he was anymore, maybe he had left her, but she wouldn’t ever forget him, so she would just have to damn tradition to hell.


	27. Necklace (tradition pt 2)

Her effort to run had been for naught. Aelin had tried to leave the palace, trying to escape into the woods, if not to run then to at least have a breakdown in private.

But she’d been stopped by the guards, under orders not to let her out of sight. And then her parents had found her, forcing her back into the throne room.

“Just hear us out, Fireheart,” her mother begged, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. Her father stood solemnly at her side, the same expression he’d had on his face ever since Orlon had taken ill.

Aelin started shaking her head hesitantly, clutching at the necklace around her neck. It was a locket she’d been given by Rowan, a note from him in it, with the words  _ to whatever end  _ in his handwriting.

It hadn’t been his fault he’d been shipped back to Doranelle, his visit ordained by his noble family at an end. They’d had a romance sprouting the whole time, but they hadn’t been able to talk since.

And it was doubtful they ever would now, with Aelin being forced into marriage.

“Aelin,” her mother said, “just meet who we picked out for you. That’s all we ask.”

She hesitated but then nodded, humoring her parents before getting the chance to leave once again. She’d run. She’d run all the way to Doranelle and the person who held her heart.

She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut as the doors opened, no doubt being sabotaged with her potential future husband the same day she’d learned she was to be married.

“Aelin?” A familiar voice called.

Her eyes snapped open.


	28. Crown (tradition pt 3)

Aelin smiled a soft smile as she looked at her great uncle standing in front of the throne.

The priest stood next to him, with his book open ready to bless her marriage and then bless her coronation after that. Vows to her husband and then to her country.

A cool hand slipped into hers, and she squeezed it back, relishing in the feel of it. Her other hand reached up to touch her locket gently before turning to look into the green eyes staring back at her.

Turns out her parents had been aware of their relationship the whole time, as they hadn’t hid it as well as they thought they were, and when Orlon’s illness got worse and worse, and it became ever more apparent it would be Aelin’s turn to step up to the throne, they decided the antiquated tradition would be a perfect opportunity.

Rowan’s family wouldn’t let him come back to Terrasen for any old reason, but for an engagement to the crown princess, there wasn’t anyone who could stop it.

So here they were.

She vaguely heard the priest talking, spouting on about love and respect and commitment, but she was just staring into Rowan’s eyes, peacefulness in her soul. She couldn’t believe she has been so close to running away from this, running away from  _ him. _

She would always run toward him now.

When it was time, and they were pronounced man and wife, Aelin leaned in, feeling more and more at home the closer she got.

And when they pressed their lips together, it all settled into a feeling of contentment, and the knowledge that this was their forever.


	29. Breathtaking

Rowan sucked in a nervous breath, clenching his trembling hands as he faced the altar, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm himself. He didn’t know why he was scared, it wasn’t as if he had any doubts or he was apprehensive, no, he hadn’t been this sure about anything in his life.

Aelin was the one for him, and he was the one for her, and it had been that way since before they’d even met.

He was ready to spend the rest of his life with her, but it was still a big moment. Hence the nerves.

The music started and he knew that right now, Lysandra would be walking in, Evangeline too, as the maid of honor and flower girl respectively. Aelin had been overjoyed to ask them, had been overjoyed the minute he proposed. 

Maybe she wasn’t as overjoyed when they met, starting out as enemies before realizing they were better off as friends and then something more, but since they settled into the relationship, it had been natural.

Then Aelin’s song played, and Rowan took another breath. Lorcan muttered “it’s time” and then he slowly turned around, a whoosh of air escaping him.

She was absolutely beautiful.

Her soft smile made tears prick his eyes, and the way her own eyes lit up had him smiling too.

He didn’t even care about her dress, or her hair, or her jewelry. Just as herself, she was  _ breathtaking _ .


	30. Hands

Rowan had to know what he was doing. He  _ had  _ to. Because he was either truly oblivious or he was doing it on purpose to tease her.

Either way, Aelin didn’t think she was going to last long at the bar. Not with the way his hand was wrapped around his glass of whiskey, with the way one finger was sliding up and down almost carelessly, mirroring the motion he would make somewhere else, with the way he flexed his hand slightly and she could see the veins and the muscles in it, making heat pool inside of her and her breathing turn a little shallower.

The smirk that appeared on his face as he talked to Lorcan made it clear that he was aware of his effect on her, but she didn’t have it in her to do anything back. At least, not anything subtle enough to where someone wouldn’t know what’s going on.

This thing between them was new, so new that none of their friends knew yet, and they wanted to keep it that way. The secrecy was exciting,  _ sexy _ even, and she wasn’t ready to give it up. Even if she wished she could jump him right now, taking those stupid hands and shoving them up her dress as she kissed him furiously.

But no, she just had to wait until they were free to go back to his apartment, where she really would make him sorry for playing with her like this.


	31. Tightrope

Rowan couldn’t take her eyes away from the girl. Aelin something, he had seen in the brochure. He didn’t remember the rest. High up on the tightrope, she was mesmerizing, the way she twirled and flipped with the ease of a bird who didn’t need anything to stand. 

Fenrys had dragged him to the Orynth Circus, claiming that it was a crucial part of their trip here, even snagging front row seats, and Rowan had grumbled and groused about it, but he wasn’t complaining now.

The blonde girl was like a star, and he’d watched her from the moment she’d clambered her way up, when she’d winked at him before starting her performance.

But then it started going wrong. Her confident smirk turned into a look of fear as her eyes landed on something off stage, where he couldn’t see. She started scrambling backwards, ignoring the confused gazes of the audience as she tried desperately to get done.

But then the rope snapped, as if cut, and she leapt, aiming for the side, but missed, falling 

down

down 

down 

And before Rowan knew what he was doing, he was running, terror like no other filling his gut as he raced his way up to the stage, diving to catch her before she hit the ground.


	32. Myth

Rowan Whitethorn, explorer and pioneer, discoverer of hundreds of ancient artifacts, credited for finding ancient ruins that no one had laid eyes on in the many centuries between their conception and the early twentieth century that housed them now, thought that this venture was his most important yet.

The tomb was supposed to be a myth. The burial ground of the ancient Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius wasn’t supposed to exist.  _ She  _ wasn’t supposed to exist. She was a fairytale, a bedtime story told to children, a legend.

But here he stood, deep underground in a series of caves, full of treasures and troves, staring at something rarer than all of the gold and precious jewels he had passed.

It had taken hours for Rowan to make his way all the way down here. He’d started early in the morning, right after waking up in his camp from the night before. Carrying a torch, he’d used his machete to cut through any brush growing in his way, and avoided the urge to pilfer through the many chests and side caverns, keeping his mind on the real prize. Because this discovery would make him richer than anything he could take and sell. The queen’s stories were known to everyone, her supposed adventures and conquerings, her mythical achievements and her mysterious court, her shadowed death at the young age of 22, only a few years younger than Rowan himself. It was all folklore, but if the knowledge came out that it was  _ real _ … well, Rowan didn’t even truly know what would happen.

He sucked in a breath and blew it across the top of the stone casket, blowing away layers of dust to reveal symbols carved into the top. But as he brushed away more and more dirt, he discovered the symbols were all over, as if marking some sort of spell or incantation. He berated himself for the thought. Magic may have been real in the ancient queen’s tales, but it wasn’t real in any way shape or form now. But maybe…

He shook his head and set down his torch, resting it against the far wall. The actual tomb was quite simple compared to the other rooms, only the coffin laying in the center and a sword with a giant ruby in the hilt hung against the stone wall above the coffin.

Pulling his sleeves up, Rowan approached the lid, fingers finding the almost invisible crack. With a grunt, he lifted it and shifted it slightly to the side. It wasn’t quite enough to see in, but it was too heavy to move in one go. He didn’t know what he expected to find in there, a decayed skeleton he supposed, with maybe a few lingering snags of fabric and some bugs hanging around the bones.

But when he grabbed the stone again and slid it more, he let out a harsh breath and a curse. Because instead of a dead body, eaten away by time and the environment, he saw a perfectly preserved tomb. There was a soft red silk material lining the bottom, with rich gold embroidery along the edges that wasn’t at all faded, still shining as brightly as it likely had the day this casket was shut.

And instead of a yellowed skeleton, Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius also looked exactly as she likely had the day she was put in here. Her golden hair was long and flowing, resting gently over her shoulders and down her long sleeved blue velvet gown, embroidered with the same golden thread as the fabric beneath her. Matching blue shoes covered her feet, and her skin and face looked flushed and pink, like she had just taken her last breath and the air was still waiting to leave her body.

Except...except the slight lift and fall of her chest, the fluttering of the delicate hairs in front of her mouth, the slight shift of her eyes beneath their lids showed that she was still very much alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to drop a word in the comments if you have one to suggest as a prompt, and I’ll try and get to it soon!


End file.
